So. Mere days after promising not to get all shot up, what does B do? Gets all shot up. This time is the worst so far. She was attacked and left for dead. And to make matters worse? They stole her gun.

On her way home, she wandered too close to Dunwich and was attacked. Again. No bullets this time, just suction cup marks like she was attacked by a radioactive octopus. She almost didn't make it out of that one.

After waking up in some guy's shack, B crept out. She looks like a zombie, complete with bloody outfit. She's slowly walking back to her shack near the lake, plodding along like it's all she can do to keep one foot in front of the other.

Derk's wandering back from the town because that's what he does after a shift at the clinic and it's all he can do but /not/ notice the woman whom he knows beaten and left for dead in that sort of zombie walk back to the shack. It's a rush, with heart in his throat as he runs the distance between them, not breaking stride until he's caught up to her and confirmed that the blood figure that she poses is indeed the one and only, B.

Breathing heavy and reaching out, Derk, stops B so that he can look in her eyes as well as to feel for a pulse at the neck and wrist. "B?" he coughs out, quickly inhaling and holding his breath to calm the rush that's flooding through him. He gasps again, "B, let's... get... you... back," he says and there's no time to argue with her, his arms going under her to lift her as he carries her the remaining distance to the shack, the table having not been added to since the last time she was fixed there, and so she's placed there as Derk scrambles, looking for his bag and waiting for any sort of response from the woman.

B does have a pulse. She has that much going for her. It's good that his words come out in short puffs of breath. It might be hard for her to follow him, should they come out in one smooth stream. She drops her chin twice in what could be taken for a nod, sagging against him as he carries her the rest of the way. She winces when she's set down, a sure sign that she's still with us, for the time being.

"Derk .." she begins, and lifts a hand to her mouth to cover her cough, "..I was looking for you." Her words come out strained, slurred.

"You were looking for me..." he begins, as he starts to cut her clothing free of her body. There's going to be no shame here, she's near death, hovering at the door, and he's got her in the room with the stills, so it's warm and dry. IT's the best he can do as he starts to note the shape and damage of the wounds that cover her body. "Dunwich..." he curses, having seen such things before, and they all align in ways that have him muttering and nodding to her. "You found me... now let me help you..." he tells her, his hands moving over her, poking and prodding to find what's broke, what's not, and the severity of that which has been done to her.

He will heal her, one way or another, that's what he's good at, but he's also extremely worried for her state of being and it resonates in his eyes and the way his touch is upon her.

Wounds, she has aplenty. The worst, though, is a shot through her thigh. It's a wonder she could walk at all, let alone from Dunwich all the way back. Must have taken her the better part of the day. She's also shot in the torso. Another bullet to dig out and add to the tragically growing collection that Clara is keeping. The rest of her wounds are all suction cup thingies on both legs, and around her right wrist.

She lays there and doesn't much move aside from trying to help. She's pretty bad at that right now, given her current state. And where are the girls? Probably at the ranch, going to school. Maybe in the backyard, playing. Who knows. It's been three years since B left to go do whatever it was she had to do. Sure feels that way.

Derk will do what he can. There's only so much that the body can handle, and heal itself, despite the rapid healing chems that they have available to them and with all the damage that B has routinely sustained over the past few weeks, it's a wonder that she's mobile at all. Derk will do what he can, digging out the extra bullet, which comes out in several fragments, which doesn't seem pretty and that has him having to dig around to make sure she's not taken any additional internal damage. It's a mess and the table has red spots by the time he is done with her.

The girls, they were at the Ranch for the day, being cared for as they have been in the past, especially with the young one in the mix, though there had been talk of having them back at the shack once more. "So... B... what did we say about getting shot? I feel like you're not taking me seriously.." he tells her with a heavy dose of concern.

B laughs, or tries to. It comes out as more of a gurgle. "Hitmen," says she by way of explanation. Seems like too much work to sit up, so se just remains on the table, bleeding on it until her wounds are staunched or stiched. She smiles thinly, "They took my gun." This seems more concerning to her than actually having bullets dug out of her wounds. She probably would have cried out a little more when he was doing that, no matter how gentle he was, save she can't spare the energy. "Can I have something to drink?" she wonders, glancing around for a spare bottle of one of her brews. In a pinch, water would work too.

"Hitmen," the word itself causes Derk to pause in what he's doing, a cold feeling descending upon his neck as the hairs rise in such a way that only such a comment can do. His gaze moves to her's and there's a slow nod of his head. "I thought that was dealt with..." he whispers quietly, almost a question. And she's been hurt enough for the time being, so he helps to gather her a jar of clear liquid that could be water, at least assumed to be such from a distance, but she'll recognize it as one of the shines she's made. Stronge enough to numb the pain, but also help her get some sleep eventually. "Where are they coming from? Which direction? B... if they're still after you... this isn't good. You know that, right?" he's not trying to pressure her, but it's clear that he's more troubled by this last announcement than anything prior.

B forces herself up on her elbows to sip from the glass. One sniff at the jar would give anyone a clearer picture of what's in the bottle. She coughs again, but seems stronger. Easing up into a fully seated position, she looks down to her ruined dress. "I don't know. They got me before I could see them. Only knew it was hitmen because of the things they said when they came to get my gun. I don't know who would want me dead. Maybe they thought I was Sparrow again. I don't know why, I don't really look like her. Much." She speaks slow, sluggishly, as if it was more than one shot she's already had. "I was just going to get some nails for the back room. Ready to put up walls .. once I can stand again."

"No B, you know as well as I do... that there's someone who's put a bounty on you.. I've dealt with at least one hunter who was looking specifically for you," Derk explains and there's a moment as he starts to look at her, as though she's not telling him everything. "What aren't you telling me?" he asks her, clearly not liking the fact that she's been shot and left for dead, her gun be damned. "I can get you nails, don't worry about that," he explains, and there's something in his voice, a dismissal to those thoughts, clearly wanting some sort of answer to the first series of questions.

He looks her over, but there's not much more that he can do for her, and so he goes to get one of the blankets, her bandages will hold, and he covers her up so that she can have some modesty in the moment.

B shakes her head. "No .. I don't know why someone would want me dead. My owner .. he would probably want me back, but not dead. I .. don't really think that he'd call out a hit on me. Maybe put a bounty on me .. but dead? It's not really his style." She tucks the blanket around herself, feeling a little stronger, likey due to the lack of metal in her frame and the moonshine in the glass.

"Derk .. thank you. I don't know how I'll ever repay you for all the times you've patched me up. I've -tried- to stay out of trouble, but apparently that's a lot harder than it sounds for me. Maybe I'll stick close to home for a couple of days. Or a week. Maybe a week."

"No? You don't think he'd do that? After how long have you been away? You don't think he could replace you... other options?" Derk asks, and while he realizes he may sound a bit harsh, the wasteland is harsh, as are its occupants, and he's come up against all sorts of ugly in the past. A pause and he nods his head slowly, moving closer to her as he finishes washing the last instrument, placing it meticulously away within his kit. Once that's done, he will have two free hands, the better with which to shake her, should he had wanted too... which he had, but now he simply uses those two free hands to give her a warm hug. "Look B, you don't have to repay me... or you can, by doing just that, stay at home, relax, get back to your full health, and stay within the town for a time. Work on your shine and the like, as much as I enjoy being with you, I'd like for a few times to do so without having to pull things out of your body... you know? Also... you're reaching the max that your body can take... without some of the most advanced technology... you just need to give your body time..." he sighs, his voice cracking near the end.

"Oh, I know he'd be able to replace me. It's not about that. It's about the fact that I got away." B's lower lip sticks out in a little pout. "Maybe he is after my head after all. Just .. doesn't seem his style is all. He's the type to take revenge into his own hands." She unwraps her arms from around herself to wrap them around him instead. Resting her head against his shoulder, she gives him a squeeze that was meant to be tight but only served to show how weak she really is. "Okay," she says, simply. She'll stay at home .. at least until she goes stir crazy. Then it'll be harder, but maybe she'll be in good enough shape to hammer nails into walls. They still need to actually build two rooms.

"Hmmmm... We can talk about that in the morning," Derk tells her, clearly not believing it allm but he's not going to press now. It's enough that she's giving him a hug back, a hug that has him holding her and easing her from the table. "Here, let's get you into bed, though you'll have to carry your drink on your own," he tells her, a small smile coming to his lips. He'll carry her back to the mattresses that have been beaten to their second or third deaths to free them of the dust of the ages into something that actually seems to work to some degree. Beggars can't be choosers, and it's better than most resting places. "We'll go get the girls tomorrow. Let's help you to get some sleep, okay?" He asks, settling her down and helping her with the blankets.

So the springs might be a little worse for the wear, but he's right. It's better than no mattress. She woke up in a ditch, and doesn't recommend that either. She smiles to him and clutches her drink in her hands as she's carried to one of the mattresses on the floor. "Maybe I'll even learn how to make a bedframe. Couldn't be too hard," says she, eyelids already starting to droop. Still fighting off sleep like a child told to go to bed, she drains the rest of the clear liquid from her glass jar and sets it on the floor next to the mattress. "Let's? Does that mean you're going to lay down to? I'm too tired to do anything but pass out, mind you, but it'd be nice to do it in your arms."

Derk's lips curl into a smile that buds into a laugh at her comments, "How could I refuse such a request?" He asks, around the mirth that she's stirred in him. Another laugh and then he settles himself down, realizing that he's not really dressed for bed, then again, she's got her own interesting outfit of bandages, and like she said, there's not much else going to be going on.. so it should be fine, right? Derk's eyes blink a couple times and then he's moving onto the mattress with her, to hold her as requested and then to stroke her back as the evening wears on and the effects of the alcohol will settle upon her. She'll fall asleep before him, but that does not seem to bother the man as he lays awake thinking for a while, before succumbing to slumber himself.